


The Color of Her Panties

by Jimiel



Series: In The Pantry [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Beard Kink, F/M, Female Bilbo, Fix-It, Gratuitous Panty Shots, Implied Bare Feet Kink, Panty Kink, Rule 63, Voyeurism, kink meme fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 03:36:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1140956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jimiel/pseuds/Jimiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for a prompt on the Hobbit Kink Meme:</p><p>  <b><br/><i>Prompt:</i><br/></b><br/><i>On their trek to the Lonely Mountain, fem!Bilbo takes a tumble down a steep hill. Balin, in an attempt to catch her, grabs her arm and goes down with her. And he figures out that Shirefolk have different undergarments than dwarrowdams.</i></p><p> <i>That is to say he gets a face full of panty clad hobbit bottom and his face gets redder than her jacket as she stutters apologies and tries to get off of him.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ruby

**Author's Note:**

> _**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to or explicitly from The Hobbit._
> 
> _**Author's Note:** This is my first time ever attempting to fill a prompt..._

As the Company of Thorin Oakenshield traveled through the every narrowing pathway within the foothills leading from Rivendell to the Misty Mountains, Balin paused. He stepped to the side so that those behind him could continue down from the current hill without disturbing their steps and looked at the slope they were on, comparing it to the steeper slope of the next hill. He sighed and muttered, “I’m gettin’ too old for this.”

The sound of laughter as the Princes, Bofur, and Hobbit brought up the rear of the group warmed Balin’s heart and he picked up his pace again, though still off to one side of the trail proper. He wasn’t sure what exactly happened, but the sound of a thump preceded a horrified gasp and a sudden concerted cry from Fili, Kili, and Bofur.

“Bilbo!”

Balin turned swiftly mid-step, balance off kilter slightly, just in time for the Company’s burglar to smack full force into him and send them both tumbling. They rolled by a startled Ori and Dori, smacked a dawdling Bifur off his feet, and bounced off Bombur to be knocked clear off the pathway all together and down the steeper, less forgiving side of the hill to the startled shriek of the Hobbit and surprised yelp of Balin himself.

Back up on the pathway, the other dwarves clustered at the point where Bilbo and Balin had tumbled off the main track and cringed each time there was a thud and snapping branch as the two were out of sight in the brush and obviously still falling. Eventually there was silence. After a moment, Kili spoke up, voice full of dread. “Are they… Dead?”

Dwalin snorted. “Burglar might be, but not Balin.”

This did little to comfort the younger members of the group and Bofur got down on hands and knees to peer down the path of destruction the duo had left in their wake. Not seeing anything, he called down. “Bilbo! Balin!” He paused. “Ye dead?”

Ori whimpered.

Down in the small canyon, where the shrub and tree trunks grew strong and thick, Balin and Bilbo were both gasping for breath. Their tumble had stopped when they’d fetched up against a tree, knocking the air from their lungs. Once able to focus on more than trying to breathe again, Balin spoke up. “All right there, lass?”

His eyes had been closed, but he knew Bilbo had landed atop him somehow and now he opened his eyes, tilting his head up slightly to look at her only to be met with the most interesting sight. It was shiny, sleek, and plump… Like perfect rubies. He couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing. Where had rubies come from out here? It wasn’t until he noticed the rubies shifting in time to the burglar trying to catch her breath that his focus widened… and his eyes widened as well. The Hobbit’s legs were emerging from the rubies, one going on either side of his head! And her thick travel skirt had managed to flip up, baring what was undoubtedly her ruby clad backside to his eyes!

Balin felt his face start to burn as he realized just how close this position put his face to Bilbo’s lady parts. And yet his eyes were glued to the shimmering ruby that was her posterior. His thoughts rapidly fired around his head. What was that on her bum? How’d she get it to shine so? Dwarrowdams wore nothing at all like that, he knew. When you managed to talk your way into getting one in bed, they were short trousers under their skirts that had too many ties. He couldn’t comprehend the tiny little thing clinging to the Hobbit lass’s plump bottom.

“Balin?” Bilbo had finally caught her breath. “I’m okay.” She moved to push herself up, and it wasn’t until she was almost in a sitting position that she realized she was pushing against Balin’s stomach to lift up… Then that meant… She angled her head down and saw the tips of Balin’s snowy beard peeking out from under her skirt. Which meant that the tingling, slightly scratchy, fluffy feeling on her thighs was… She froze before suddenly diving off to the side and standing up.

Balin’s saucer-like eyes only grew larger as he felt Bilbo press on him and start to sit up, sending her ruby-rear closer and closer to his nose. His face was on fire. Suddenly the light cut out as her shifting angle caused her skirt to fall back into place and cover both her rubies and his head. And, just as he felt the barest graze of something silky on his large nose, she froze. He gasped in surprise, both at the silky texture and the sudden movement of Bilbo throwing herself off to the side and lifted himself up into a more sitting position, turning wide-eyes and a reddened face to the equally red-faced Bilbo.

“I’m so sorry, Balin! I have no idea how that happened…” She fussed with her skirt, making sure it was completely and properly down and covering everything it was supposed to before moving to help Balin stand. “Just wasn’t proper at all. So terribly sorry.”

Eventually Balin managed to speak up. “It’s… it’s fine, lass. T’was an accident after all.” Thankfully a more convenient distraction came along in the sound of the other dwarves calling down. “Why don’t we see if we can figure out how to get out of here, now. Hmm?”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Bilbo looked around, quickly spotting the broken brush that marked the direction they’d fallen from. She went back in that direction until a minor drop-off prevented her from going higher. “Oh dear… Looks like we’re going to have to follow this canyon and see if we can meet up with them when the slope evens out.”

“I was afraid of that. Best call up to them.” Which he did and soon the matter was arranged and Balin and Bilbo walked between the tree trunks in the canyon, heading to meet up with the rest of the Company.

Every time she glanced back at Balin, Bilbo flushed slightly before her gaze darted away again, the memory of his beard tickling at her thighs fresh in her mind.

And Balin… Well, his face was pretty much permanently the color of Bilbo’s jacket, a few shades darker than the rubies of her plump backside… And every time he thought of it, which happened quite frequently, the blush deepened again. When they finally rejoined the others, cheers all around the company, he had to brush off the comments on his reddened face with excuses of his age…

For which only Thorin and Dwalin doubted his sincerity, both knowing he was not as old as his snowy hair made him seem. They shared a look, both nodding that they’d try to get the real reason for why Balin was blushing like a dwarfling out of their friend and brother as soon as possible.


	2. Rose Quartz

The very next day another opportunity arose. Balin had been skillfully dodging his little brother’s horrid attempts at interrogation and parrying Thorin’s even less subtle efforts at inquiry since that morning. In light of their ‘chatty’ moods, Balin allowed himself to fall to the back of the line. This had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Bilbo was now walking up hill in front of him at all. And it certainly had nothing to do with his hopes that the steep hill they were climbing up now might provide him with an opportunity to catch another glimpse. Not at all, he was a noble dwarf of the line of Durin after all. He had much better things to do with his time. Like making certain that one of the guilty faced princes didn’t accidentally knock the Burglar into another tumble.

Bilbo seemed to be in one of her shy moods that day, blushing and being sweet and innocent at every turn. Balin was almost certain she was doing that intentionally though he couldn’t see what she was hoping to accomplish. But he couldn’t deny that was definitely a flash of victory in her eyes when she sent the brother Princes off to refresh her waterskin for her before they lost the stream trickling down the side of cliff up ahead.

Balin couldn’t help but to be impressed at the way she got those boys to do her bidding with hardly any effort on her own part. He’d even seen her subtly maneuvering the older dwarfs to her bidding. He wondered if he could get her to stay in Erebor once they’d reclaimed it. Someone with that kind of talent would be an asset. Balin’s gaze shifted down her pack to skirt before falling down to peer at her bare ankles and feet. He was not the only dwarf to indulge in that particular peek and so felt no guilt for admiring what she openly displayed. He wished he’d thought to reach a hand up to see what the thick hair, almost fur, on her feet and lower legs had felt like when they had tumbled.

Balin’s face grew hot again as he remembered the exact shape of her posterior the previous day. It wasn’t hard; he’d thought the tight material on her had been shining rubies at first, so it was natural to instantly memorize the shape for a dwarf. Just as Balin’s mind was threatening to fall into a fantasy, a crack of thunder in the distance caused him to look up and around. The wind had picked up and the sky clouded over as they moved from the foothills into the Misty Mountains proper. He knew the weather was going to be terrible soon and sighed. There was nothing worse than trekking the side of a mountain in bad weather.

Shaking his head, Balin turned his attention back to the path. He trudged up the incline for a while longer before he heard a startled gasp ahead of him. His eyes flitted up to see Bilbo had paused and was bent forward, hands holding the front of her skirt down while the wind merrily picked up and flitted what wasn’t being held down all over.

Rose Quartz.

Balin’s throat went dry. Bilbo’s beautiful plump bum wasn’t clad in rubies today, she had apparently changed the covering for one that was in a delicate shade of Rose Quartz… And had tiny little layers of ruffles striped across her backside… Ruffles that fluttered wildly in the wind as it to say, “Hello Balin! Look at us!” Balin was certain he was going to the pit of fire in Mount Doom for his errant thoughts and newly discovered inability to keep his eyes off of Bilbo’s shapely backside. And yet… The fact that her exotic coverings came in more than one color made his mouth water, wondering what other delights she had hidden away in her pack.

Shaking his head clear, Balin picked up his step and casually brushed down the back of Bilbo’s skirt before wrapping an arm around her waist. “Come on, Lass. Can’t have either of us being blown away in the wind.”

Bilbo shot Balin a grateful look, the dimming light allowing her to miss the deep red of his face as he forcibly kept his eyes straight ahead. “Thank you kindly, Mister Balin. I don’t think I’ve ever been in this much wind before…”

Balin smiled. “No thanks needed, Mistress Baggins. Its my pleasure to be at your service…”

Bilbo blushed prettily, ducking her head down and continuing with Balin to catch up to the rest of the group.


	3. Steel

There wasn’t much of a chance to catch sight of anything after that. What with the trip down into Goblin Town and the orcs and trees followed by the Eagles all happening so closely together. It wasn’t until the group was cleaning up at the bottom of the Carrock that Balin managed to get another peek. And when he did, he was stunned speechless.

Bilbo had broken off from the main group when they found a river, moving just out of sight as she tended to do when they cleaned up and taking her pack with her. Since they were in strange lands and had encountered orcs only the day before, it was deemed she needed a guard. Thorin, in all his kingly wisdom, assigned Balin to the task. And Balin, with his newfound obsession with Bilbo’s bottom, did absolutely nothing to discourage his king’s wisdom in assigning a trustworthy dwarf to the task of standing just out of sight of the burglar so that she could clean up in peace.

This, of course, is where Balin was now. Standing just out of sight in the trees with his eyes glued to Bilbo as she leaned over her pack and pulled out a small cake of soap and some of her clothes. His ears burned when he recognized both the ruby and rose quartz objects that met her hands along with various other colors he didn’t get a good look at before she stuffed them into the river and started to clean them. Once they were cleaned, she arranged them on a sunny rock just out of his sight and started to pull off her clothing, no doubt to clean them as well.

Balin knew he should look away and give Bilbo her privacy, but he couldn’t. His eyes were glued to her with curiosity burning in their heated depths. Wondering what new reveal he would get when she finally dropped her skirt… And when she did, he couldn’t help the soft groan he gave because dear sweet merciful Mahal she was trying to kill him. Facing away from him, curls tumbling loosely down her back, legs spread slightly for better balance… the only thing Bilbo was wearing was chainmail!

At least that was what it looked like. Realistically Balin knew she wouldn’t be wearing chainmail there and, as he looked closer it seemed to be some kind of knitting, but it still sang in his mind as chainmail. The yarn that had been used was some shimmery steel colored one and the pattern was definitely meant to resemble chainmail.

Bilbo was wearing a chainmail bum cover. She had been wearing one when driving her letter opener repeatedly into the chest of an orc before standing up to Azog himself. Balin bit his lip, whimpering quietly before turning to press his forehead into the trunk of the tree he was standing behind. It just wasn’t fair. She teased and taunted with rubies and quartz only to arm herself in delicate, utterly feminine, exotic chainmail just in time for battle. She was perfect. And Balin had never felt so aroused by a woman in all his life.

The sound of splashing drew his attention back to the river to see Bilbo herself in the water, setting up the skimpy chainmail covering with her other unmentionables before turning back to bathing herself. He groaned again, because she didn’t have any pale skin about her at all. Every inch of her plump, snuggly frame was the same sun kissed hue and he was definitely paving his road to Mount Doom now. He was going to kill Thorin for giving him this assignment.

Balin glanced over again in time to see Bilbo tilting back to rinse soap out of her hair and give him a perfect side view of her bountiful Hobbit figure. And, well, maybe he’d make Thorin a cake instead. The lad still liked poppy seed cakes, right?


	4. Emerald

They had been at Beorn’s for two days. The first day had been spent, for the most part, eating and sleeping as they were finally able to relax and recover without worry of ambush for the first time since Rivendell. Needless to say, they were all indulging in the peaceful atmosphere of Beorn, but none so much as the Hobbit. While dwarfs tended to not be able to fully relax unless deep within the sturdy stones of their mountains, the flowers and garden of Beorn’s were the perfect atmosphere for a Hobbit to thrive and that was exactly what Bilbo was doing.

As she scampered about during the day, darting into the flowers and gardens, emerging with blossoms woven into her hair and berry stains on her lips and hands, the years of her age and weariness of the journey could almost be seen literally melting off of her short frame. She indulged, “Like a proper Hobbit,” of Beorn’s kitchen at least seven times each day and in between she’d be out in his garden. She didn’t even seem to mind the times Beorn caught her, his booming laugh delighted that the ‘Bunny’ was growing fat again. She merely giggled along and humored the gentle skin-changer.

Balin, entranced by all things Bilbo, watched. Admittedly this wasn’t the only reason he watched. He had, in fact, come up with a theory and was curious. The day of their tumble, and he admits he wished it were a different kind of tumble other than literal, she had been joking and flirting with the boys at the back of the line. It had been a congratulatory backslap, one of the boys forgetting she wasn’t a sturdy dwarf, that had sent her on the path to Balin’s new fate. That day, with her flirty and near lewd in humor, she had been wearing silky rubies on her bum. The next day she had been shy and sweet, with rose quartz ruffles… Then she had been brave and dangerous in knitted chainmail.

Now, she was definitely acting like a child of nature and Balin burned with the desire to know what deliciousness would be wrapped snugly around her bottom this time. He had already learned that when she could, she changed the coverings on a daily basis. After all, she had been shy their first day at Beorn’s and when Balin caught her after she changed clothes that night, he’d noticed a glimpse of rose quartz wrapped up in her other clothes. So he decided either she felt a certain way when picking which bottom covering she wore, and he still needed to find out what those kind of bottom covers were called, or somehow the coverings themselves changed the way she acted. Though admittedly Balin supposed he’d have to ask her directly to discover that particular bit of information.

When Bilbo’s flighty, earthly mood had her inside, Balin found himself perched on a chair that gave him a full view of most of Beorn’s cabin. When she flitted outside and into the gardens again, Balin gravitated outdoors as well. Usually with the excuse of his pipe and fresh air, or a bit of mending and needing better light, or whatever came to mind at the time. He didn’t notice the way his brother and leader watched his, to them, obvious movements of following the Hobbit or the way they murmured bets between them!

It was during one of the trips outside that Balin heard Bilbo’s unmistakable voice give a delighted sounding squeal.

“Cherries!”

Unable to resist, Balin found himself up and moving toward the voice. He arrived in time to see the Hobbit pulling herself up into the branches of a very fruitful cherry tree, her feet dangling for a moment before she pulled up to stand on the branch and better reach the cherries. Balin merely watched her for a while. The way she picked the large fruit, so ripe it was a deep red, almost purple, and placed each one in her mouth. Her plush lips wrapping around the stem before she pulled it free and flicked it away, chewing happily. Then, and he was surprised the first couple times, she pursed her lips and spat out the cherry pit before going for another.

After the initial splurge, Bilbo surprised Balin so much that he halted any attempts to get closer as he just froze in place, face a mask of disbelief. For Bilbo had boldly lifted up the front end of her skirt and was using it as a makeshift bowl to collect cherries within. Admittedly one out of every three she picked ended up in her mouth, but Balin was too distracted by the brash action to notice. His stunned eyes were instead locked on the sight of emerald green lace curling in sheer vines over her tanned skin and a just barely visible darker shade of hair beneath the sheer fabric.

Balin had absolutely no idea how long he stood there, gawking, before he finally found his voice. “Miss Bilbo! That is… Anyone could…” Balin sputtered, unable to finish a thought and, damningly, unable to look away.

“Oh!”

Bilbo’s startled exclamation was accompanied by her teetering on the branch for a moment, Balin rushing over in case he needed to catch her. He didn’t, as she used her cherry picking hand to grab a higher branch and regain her balance, but now the only way he could see her was to crane his neck and get an even more damning view.

Bilbo’s ears and cheeks were rosy as she looked guiltily away. “I… I’m sorry, Mister Balin. I probably should have thought of something more appropriate. I’m afraid I wasn’t thinking when I realized that Mister Beorn had the ingredients needed for one of my favorite treats…”

“Well, just glad it wasn’t one of the boys…” He’d have had to break their arms if it had been. Balin looked around for a basket of some kind and, not seeing one, shrugged off the long red robe he tended to wear over his clothing. He passed it up to Bilbo. “Go ahead and use that, lass. Can’t have you walking back to the cabin with your skirts hiked up and your…” Balin felt his own cheeks burning once more as he looked down. “Your coverings bared for all and sundry.”

Balin could hear the sound of the cherries being transferred and material being smoothed before Bilbo spoke again.

“Panties.”

The word was foreign and completely out of the blue causing Balin to raise his eyes once more to Bilbo. “What?”

Bilbo grinned almost impishly. “They’re called panties, Mister Balin. Not coverings. Do dwarrowdams not wear them?” Her head tilted slightly as she considered this before she carefully went back to picking cherries and putting them in the new ‘container’ of Balin’s robe.

Panties. The word was so simple and yet knowing what it meant, Balin couldn’t help but feel sinful as he let the word roll in his mind. Panties… “No. Dwarrowdams wear something more like short trousers that they tie at the waist and knee.”

Bilbo sniffed. “Like the women of men, then. I’ve tried those, when on a trip with my mother in my youth. Nowhere near as comfortable as a nice pair of panties.” She was apparently very swift at picking cherries because she was soon passing down the robe with a large collection of cherries to Balin before making her way out of the tree. She moved to stand in front of him and collect the robe, but Balin stubbornly held on, being the gentleman to carry it and all. Bilbo rolled her eyes for a moment before turning shrewd. “But this isn’t the first time you’ve seen my panties, is it?”

Balin’s already red face turned even redder. “I admit I did see the ruby panties, Miss Bilbo. I honestly didn’t know what I was looking at, at first and then saw nothing.”

“Ruby?” Bilbo looked amused at the descriptor before giving a shake of her head. “No… You’ve seen more than that, dear Master Dwarf…” She moved close, almost brushing her rosy cheek against his burning one before she angled to whisper in his ear. “I have dreams… About the way your beard felt against my thighs…”

Balin’s mouth went dry and he would have pulled her into a kiss if she hadn’t pulled back swiftly and started to skip toward the cabin. “Come along, Mister Balin… That treat won’t make itself!”

During dessert that night, as everyone was moaning into the deliciousness of what Bilbo declared was her famous cherry cheesecake recipe, Bofur piped up. “What in the world are you celebrating, Bilbo? To be so bright and cheerful and makin’ delicacies like this?”

Bilbo’s eyes were bright when she grinned back at Bofur. “Panties.”

Balin sputtered, nearly choking on his piece of the cake at the word leaving her mouth so openly amongst the Company. He heard Bofur asking what that was and saw Bilbo merely shaking her head at him before demurely eating another piece of her cherry cheesecake. After a moment, she looked down at the bright red and still slightly choking Balin and gave him a wink.


	5. Pearl

It ended up taking Balin several months to figure out that it was actually a combination of both his original theories that worked into how Bilbo selected her panties for the day. Well, several months of him failing to decide before Bilbo outright admitted it.

“I feel a certain way when I wake up.” She had said. “And so I pick from my selection. Then, the feel of the material on my sensitive places, the shape and design, it reinforces the way I feel on the inside and makes it stronger.”

By the time he knew that, he had a basic color system worked out. When she wore rubies it was when she was feeling funny and flirty. Rose quartz and other pinks were for when she was feeling sweet and kind. Emeralds were reserved for when she wanted to be a simple Hobbit, as she called it. He said it was when she was feeling like a wild nature child. The chainmail knits were for when she was feeling daring and aggressive, her own way of arming herself for battle. He learned other colors as well. Like how she wore sapphires when she was feeling sad or nostalgic. Golden colors when she was feeling particularly well to do. And her single copper pair was for when Bilbo was being excessively stubborn. But Balin’s favorites were definitely the amethysts.

The first encounter Balin had with the amethyst panties was when Bilbo rescued them from Thranduil’s dungeon. He remembered her eyes had been hooded and nearly glassy with whatever emotion was boiling through her small Hobbit self as she bullied and bossed the dwarfs into the barrels. Her cheeks were flushed as she made certain everyone was in place. Then she had boldly stopped at Balin’s barrel and knelt down to plant a rather passionate kiss on him right in front of everyone. The kiss hadn’t lasted nearly long enough for Balin’s taste, but the others were getting loud with their bawdy comments at the sight and Bilbo was soon standing up. She rather brashly moved to stand right over Balin’s head, allowing his voyeuristic heart a clear glimpse of amethyst as she walloped the dwarf above him before she danced away, told them to hold their breaths, and dropped them all into the river.

So yes, amethyst was definitely his favorite color… one of his favorites anyway.

He remembered cheekily asking her before they parted in the secret tunnel into Erebor if she was wearing her chainmail and getting a sharp tug on his beard when she responded that of course she was. He remembers how, while the others were looking through the treasure for the Arkenstone that he had come across her finding small chips of silver that she was using a nail and a diamond to punch holes in before showing him the shimmering, jingling pair of real silver panties she was making… right where anyone could see her. He distinctly remembers that was when he asked if she would marry him.

Balin also remembers everyone got a glimpse of her exotic chainmail when Thorin threatened her life. He also remembers knocking Thorin out for that too, having never been so furious that Thorin would harm his intended. Strangely, he also remembers Dwalin had given a victorious cry before declaring that Thorin owed him for their bet now. And everyone cheered at Balin’s fortune for stealing the Company’s burglar right out from under them.

He wishes he didn’t remember the battle of five armies, but at least the Company survived.

And now, now he was discovering his new favorite color. For just that day he and Bilbo had wed. They were in their home, a cozy little smial-cave built into the base of the mountain just inside Erebor’s gates that was half hobbit hole and half dwarf cave in both design and décor. And he was slowly disrobing his new wife of her lace and flowers and jewels.

“So what new treasure will I see today, my jewel” He asked the blushing hobbit. If he had guessed, he’d have picked one of the pink ones from the way she was acting.

“Something new, my love…” Bilbo demurred so beautifully when she wished. “As any good Hobbit lass would for her wedding.”

“Traditional hobbit wedding panties?” Balin couldn’t help the flare of desire that swept over him as he unlaced her dress and coaxed it off of her shoulders. He paused to kiss every inch of her garden tanned skin as it was revealed, nuzzling his snowy beard against her to hear her moan and whimper at the sensation. Finally, after what felt like forever, he gave the tug that pulled her dress the rest of the way off to pool at her feet and reveal the secret at last.

“Pearl…” Balin breathed, reaching out to stroke a slightly shaking hand against the plain white cotton of the panties Bilbo had been wearing under her wedding gown. “I think I have a new favorite color.” He informed his wife.

Bilbo grinned, reaching up to grasp Balin’s beard and pull him into a kiss.

 

 

Fin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Kink Meme Prompt:  
> http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/9471.html?thread=20561407#t20561407


	6. Bonus - Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I was done, but apparently there was one more little tale to be told...

It wasn’t often that Balin found himself racing through his day of work. He excused himself from Thorin, brushed off Dwalin entirely, dodged the mess that he didn’t want to think about that resulted in Ori chasing Fili and Kili through the corridors while wielding a large war hammer, managed to avoid being drawn into Dori giving Nori a scolding, managed to snag Gimli on his way by and shove him into Gloin’s direction with a comment about how Dwalin had praised the lad’s axe work, tiptoed by Oin who was playing deaf again, accept the bouquet of flowers Bifur handed off to him without even looking, inadvertently bump Bofur into a young dwarrowdam who boxed his ears and then dragged him off for who knew what, and race by Bombur’s offer to try a new recipe he’d learned in Dale…

On second thought, Balin paused and backtracked, graciously accepting a part of the recipe and promising to bring word of how it was received on the morrow. Then he turned and hightailed it once more toward the main door, practically sliding down the ramp before taking a turn inside the main gate for the decent sized plot of land that Thorin had gifted to himself and Bilbo for their wedding and which contained their smial-cave affectionately dubbed Dwobbit Home by the princes.

He charged carefully across the garden sprawled out before Dwobbit Home’s door and then paused, leaning over to catch his breath. In one hand he clutched tightly to a bouquet of flowers and a basket of something Bombur called Petite Fours. In the other, a crumpled note containing just two words in Bilbo’s cheerful hand, the reason he had made his hasty exit from Erebor proper.

It’s here.

Only two words, but it had sent him into a tizzy of haste and now, breath caught, he opened the door and stepped into his cozy little home.

“Bilbo?”

“In our room, Balin…” Her voice was excited and caused Balin’s heart to skip. “You won’t believe what we got this time!”

It was something that had started a few months after Bilbo officially moved to Erebor. Every four to six months she received a package from the Shire, one containing new panties for her to replace old ones, try new colors and patterns, and have a fresh stock. And every time since they reached that stage in their relationship, Bilbo sent him the same two words on a tiny slip of paper. And every time Balin found himself breathless in more ways than one.

Now he found himself making his way to their room. And when he reached it, he froze. It was inevitable that Bilbo would be trying on her new garments to see if adjustments needed to be made, so this in itself wasn’t a new occurrence. He was still as immobile to the sight of her as ever. But this time, there was something new.

When he could finally speak, Balin gestured vaguely. “What’s… what’s that?”

And then Bilbo turned to look at him fully, her curls swinging as she did and offering him the most delicious view. Her current set of new panties was made out of gold threads so delicately woven that he could see her garden tanned skin through most of the material and there were bright, shiny golden flowers creating a panel on the front. But what froze him, and resulted in the basket of tiny cakes and bouquet of flowers to fall, was the fact that Bilbo was wearing some strange garment that wrapped around her torso and cupped her bounteous breasts with straps moving over her shoulders. The material was the same as the panties, the sheer gold with shining golden flowers on the cups that covered her breasts. Balin stared shamelessly.

“Isn’t it wonderful? Its something new they’ve started in the Shire. No more corsets needed!” She bounced in her excitement, moving over to wrap her arms around Balin’s shoulders. “They call it a brassiere, or a bra for short…”

Balin’s gaze followed the gold clad breasts as they approached and he was staring down at the impressive cleavage while his wife wrapped her arms around him. He moved to put his hands around her waist, pulling her close. “Sweet merciful Mahal… I love Hobbit clothes.”


End file.
